They say seeing is
believing. In the case of the man born blind, there were stages from one to the
other.

If often takes time
for us to see events and persons in a new light. But once we do, everything
connected with them takes on a new meaning.

In the history of La
Salette, there were those who made every effort to disprove the children’s
story of a Beautiful Lady and a strange message. But it eventually became clear
that Maximin and Mélanie could not have made this up, and could not have been
tricked. In short, they were neither deceiving nor deceived.

Even then, we are
morally free not to believe, while respecting those who do. A priest of the
diocese of Grenoble, however, went so far as to write and publish a story in
which he named a real person as having disguised herself and “appeared” to the
children. It didn’t matter that she bore no resemblance whatsoever to the Lady
described by the children, or that the woman herself strenuously denied the
claim.

His stance was like
that of the Pharisees in the Gospel. They preferred to believe, and for others
to believe, anything but what was plain to see.

St. Paul writes to the
Ephesians, “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.” He
speaks from experience. The passion he put to use as persecutor became his
trademark as Apostle, once he had seen the light—of Christ!

Both the readings and
La Salette invite us to take a new look, during Lent at least, at our lives,
our own world and the world at large, with the eyes of faith. What do we really
see? How do we see it?

This is like learning
photography. Not only do we need to understand the equipment, but to develop an
eye for what is worth taking pictures of.

Emily Dickinson in one
of her poems states that she sees “New Englandly.” New England was her world,
and that colored her perspective.

If we could always see
“Christianly,” “Catholicly,” “La Salettely,” “believerly,” what new realities
would we see, and what old realities would we see, as it were, for the first
time?